Page 17 of Rival for Rent
“He didn’t dislike you, Mason.” Her voice was quiet. “He was scared of you. He and I might have even been friends, if he hadn’t been so sure that would make you notice him more.”
She patted my shoulder. “Look, we were all figuring ourselves out back then. I’m not saying you’re a bad person. I’m just saying, it’s understandable Kai wasn’t thrilled to see you again last night.”
Amir, finishing off his cinnamon roll, licked a sprinkle of sugar from his fingers. “Dude, you never told me you were an asshole back in high school.”
“I didn’t…” I trailed off. I wanted to say I didn’t know, but was that even possible? I tried to picture Kai and me back in high school—tried to summon a single clear memory of us interacting directly, but I couldn’t. All I could feel was this tension, this tight, buzzy pressure in my chest, like I needed to punch something to let it out.
“I didn’t think so,” I said instead. “But I guess I was wrong.” Guilt crept up my spine, followed quickly by embarrassment. “Sorry. I get it if you think I’m an asshole.”
Amir shook his head. “Half the people who know me think I’m an asshole. I’m used to it.” He laughed. “Honestly, if I’d known you in high school, the whole asshole factor probably would’ve made me like you more.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve always had terrible taste in men.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks. That’s really reassuring.”
“Happy to help.” He reached for another cinnamon roll, grinning blithely.
I suddenly felt adrift, just standing there in Dana’s kitchen like I’d been untethered from my own memories. Was it normal to have so few? Sometimes it felt like everything in my life before the Marines had happened to someone else. Some other version of me that I couldn’t fully remember.
Honestly, I wished I could forget some of the stuff from the Marines as easily as I’d apparently forgotten high school.
“So what actually happened?” Dana asked, still working on her first roll. “Once you showed up at Kai’s house?”
“He slammed the door in my face. Or tried to. Basically told me to fuck off and get lost.”
“Damn,” Amir said. “You must’ve really gotten under his skin.”
“I guess,” I said. I’d thought it was the other way around.
“But you didn’t fuck off,” Dana said. “I heard you when you came home last night. It was late.”
“Well, yeah. Just because he told me to go didn’t mean I was going to leave. I followed him to the theater.”
Dana’s eyes went wide, and Amir let out a low whistle.
“What?” I said defensively. “I wasn’t going to abandon him because he told me to.”
“Oh my God,” Dana groaned. “I’m going to have to do so much damage control. Mason, when someone tells you to leave, youleave.”
“Not when they might be in danger,” I snapped. “And you should be glad I didn’t leave, because someone tried to stab him after the show was over.”
“What?” she said, straightening up like she’d been zapped.
“Yeah.”
“Wait, really?” Even Amir looked serious now. “Kai didn’t tell me that.”
“Probably because he’s pretending it didn’t happen,” I grumbled. I took another sip of coffee, trying to convince myself again that I’d done all I could. I couldn’t force Kai to be reasonable.
“Amir, not that I don’t love seeing you,” Dana said, “but what are you actually doing here? You could’ve passed on Kai’s message by text.”
“Yeah, but I was on my way to the gym anyway,” Amir said, shrugging. “Figured I’d stop by. Kai seemed pretty pissed.”
“I already knew that,” I said, irritation rising in me again just thinking about it. “I didn’t need you to break it to me.”
“I know.” Amir laughed. “But I like the drama.”
I sighed. “Kai wouldn’t go get the wound looked at, and I’m not even sure he’s planning to tell the cops about it. He hadn’t by the time I left.”
“You left a client at the theater after he’d gotten hurt?” Dana said, her voice sharp with surprise.
